Happily Ever After
by Synthetic Voice
Summary: The sequel to A Love Story. It is strongly recommended that you read A Love Story before this piece - there are many references to the previous story. Spoilers for Awakenings, as well as many liberties with the Howe family tree.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Apologies to those who thought this would continue - this is it. I always forget to check the complete/incomplete buttons before publishing things. For this, I wanted to leave it open ended. If you've read my other writings, you'll notice I'm not too good at happy endings. I hope you enjoy what's here, because there is not going to be any more.

* * *

He paced, as a caged wolf might, along the width of the cave. He had been doing the same when she had seen him in the dungeon at Vigil's Keep; captured and trapped in the place that, as a child, he had known as home. She watched him pace, back and forth, his strides even and smooth, face tilted downward as though to study the floor; yet she knew that his eyes would be unfocused to anyone looking in. His hands clenched, arms bent slightly - overall, his body was the tone of anxiety barely suppressed.

In contrast, she stood against one wall of the cave, nearer to its opening, closer to the rain that had forced them to take shelter in the naturally forming mouth; her arms were lightly crossed over her chest, hands near to her dagger hilts. Knees given at a slight bent, ever ready for action. Despite her defensive stature, several times she had attempted to speak, but after a fish realizes it cannot breathe outside of water, she kept it closed. What was there to say?

Ever since they had left on this journey (a second one, so soon...but it wasn't difficult to believe, not with the turns her life had taken) they had been distant with one another. Finding excuses to leave rooms, standing on different sides of camps, always putting another between them so their eyes might not meet. She knew he was angry: that part was easy. And she knew why. It was her fault, after all, and though she might not regret it, she knew that she might have committed the deed differently had she known that he would reappear. Still, it was far too late to wish upon a star now, and so she had lived with the burden.

And it had been incredibly light, until he came along. Appeared, after so many years, so many years without a word or a letter or anything. She had nearly believed him dead, had it not been for the parting scrawl she had found in her bedroom the two weeks after he had left. A single piece of parchment (now burned to ash, as had so many possessions left after the massacre) scrawled heavily, so much so she could barely believe it was his handwriting, but it hit too close to home for it not to be.

A few months later, after the tears and the heartache and the final letting go, she believed she had come to terms with his sudden departure. She never thought it odd that she wore the ring he had given her on a necklace, fondling it often for comfort or simply out of an unconscious need to deny. His absence had been filled by her family and her nephew, whose childhood she wanted to fill with wonder and laughter and all the good things she could think of. She reveled in being a doting aunt, and soon it seemed that she needed little else other than her family and her music.

That, too, had been torn away, and in her revenge she did not find solace.

This time the absence had been filled by a would-be king, though not completely - that man had not been the one she wanted, though he made her happy and made her laugh. She saw too many obstacles (both real and imaginary), and was unwilling to be anything that might stand in the way of her country's recovery. The second person to fill the absence had been a redheaded bard who loved to laugh and sing, but that too had soon come to an end because her heart had grown cold, and so the bard had been left behind.

_The time in Orlais had been mainly spent in taverns. Elissa's experience with such places was limited to their travels throughout Ferelden, and that had always been with purpose in mind, not pleasure. Leliana had a grand time introducing her to all sorts of concoctions that made her head spin and loosened her tongue. It was after one such evening, back in their room where they had sprawled out on the single bed, red faced and well oiled. Leliana was sitting against the headboard, Elissa lying with her head on the bard's lap, the redhead's fingers tangled in Elissa's dark hair. _

_The Warden was struggling with sleep while Leliana hummed a tune under her breath - perhaps a lullaby, but Elissa had never been one to complain about Leliana's singing abilities - when she started to cry. Unperturbed, Leliana had ceased the song and reached for a cloth sitting on the nightstand - this was not the first time Elissa's guarded emotions had gotten the better of her._

_"I miss him so much, Lily."_

_"I know, sweetheart." She dabbed at Elissa's face, gentle strokes of a dear friend who wanted more. More that would never be, and had become resigned to such a decision._

_"I'll never see him again."_

_"What do you mean? He's only a few days' horse ride away. You left him in a castle, remember? There's little chance of him escaping." Leliana's poor attempt at a joke only brought forth a sob from Elissa, followed by a quick breath as the Warden attempted to control herself. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but closed it as Leliana finished her ministrations and moved her hand to one side, still touching Elissa's face for the sheer pleasure of a mere caress. Elissa turned to look up at Leliana, who smiled down at her._

_"Not Alistair." Leliana's smile faded a little, and she nodded, knowing what Elissa meant. It seemed that her advice had not taken root, that Elissa was incapable of letting go of the past. She wore her facade well - it seemed that she had put the memories of her family to bed, that she had released the heartache of a lost love, that she had severed ties with the relationship she had held with the now-king of Ferelden, that she had accepted her role as Grey Warden without complaint. But that one small answer had revealed what the bard had been suspecting for some time. _

_After all, had the Warden not kept her at arm's length, teasing her only when she was inebriated, but once sober acted as though nothing had come to pass? How many nights they had spent together, where she had held her Warden close, only to be explained as comfort between close friends? _

_And yet she had allowed it to continue, without a thought for her own heart, thinking that she was content with this. She knew she wasn't. It was obvious that Elissa had clung to her out of fear of being alone - fear of having to finally confront everything she had been able to run from by concentrating solely on the Wardens and her duty to Ferelden._

_But Leliana never objected, never raised a question in defense of her own emotions. She accepted what Elissa could offer her, until the time came that Elissa slipped away quietly like a thief in the night, removing herself to the Anderfels and her duty and away from everything that frightened her. Everything that Leliana could not protect her from._

Now here she was, in a cave with the first person who had ever left her, the person who had carved a hole in her heart, and she couldn't have been wishing harder to be elsewhere. She was a different person - where once there had been laughter, gaiety, and music was now a somber, logic-driven shell - but so was he, and she had been part of what had changed him so harshly. He had been somber in his youth, but that had given way to hate. She knew what hate felt like, had caused it in so many others: and she loathed that she had caused it in him.

Her gaze flicked back to the rain outside - it was a torrent, and, in some ways, a blessing from the Maker. Their team had been attacked, ambushed by bandits in the forest while looking for a recently found opening to the Deep Roads. The opening had literally been stumbled upon by two hunters: they had fallen into the gorge, and had spied a group of darkspawn traveling into the opening. Strangely enough, the darkspawn had paid no mind to the hunters, though they had made a spectacular amount of noise both before, during, and after their fall. Elissa had wasted little time in gathering her group and setting out for the Wending Wood - but the wood had held more dangers than any of them could have guessed.

The bandits were a real threat, and beyond that there was another problem. A dalish elf, screaming about her sister being taken, was wrecking havoc on any passerby. The elf was the true cause of trade caravans going missing, as she blamed any human in her sight for the disappearance of her sister. She had brought the trees themselves to life, setting them on Elissa and her small band of Wardens, speeding away on some other errand once she saw them properly distracted. Bandits had descended moments after the trees had been felled.

Overwhelmed, their party had been separated into two groups and then the rain had come, creating cover for them to flee. The mage and the dwarf were lost, but she had no fear that they would be found again. No, her only fear was pacing to and fro a mere five feet away from her. Her eyes were drawn back to him, over and over. It was him - he looked, sounded, and, Maker's breath, he even _smelled_ the same. That alone had brought back so many memories, ones she had been fighting to repress for so long. She cleared her throat, as quietly as she could, still trying to make herself small. The noise caused him to pause in his movements, and for a moment, brown met gray.

_"My lady, we have a prisoner in the dungeon." Elissa didn't look up from the paperwork she was sorting through - now that Vigil's Keep had been somewhat secured after the darkspawn attack, and the passage leading to the Deep Roads sealed, she was attempting to make some order of her new charge as Warden Commander and arlessa. _

_The farmsteads around Vigil's Keep had not been faring well due to bandit attacks and missing trade caravans, and were demanding soldiers to protect themselves. Opposing were the nobles, who demanded soldiers to protect Amaranthine from further darkspawn attacks. She couldn't remember her father ever having this much trouble at Highever._

_"You captured one of the darkspawn? Why?"_

_"No, my lady - we found a thief invading the premises shortly before the attack." Elissa looked up, suddenly curious. Who would invade one of the oldest and longest standing arlings, knowing full well that a contingent of battle-hardened Grey Wardens were settling inside?_

_"Who is he?"_

_"He will not say. We caught him filching antiques and some other things that were worthless, at least from a trader's point of view. What would you like done with him?" Elissa stood from the chair, and moved around the desk, heading for the door._

_"I want to see him in person; it doesn't sit well with me to pass judgment on a man I've never met." She needed no directions - she knew exactly where the dungeon was. She knew where everything in this arling was, and how could she not after having visited it so many times as a child? She still couldn't shake the eeriness of not seeing the Howes in their rightful home. (Rightful no longer, she often had to remind herself.)_

_Having just arrived back in Ferelden after a lengthy trip to the Anderfels and other parts of Thedas, she had no idea that the Wardens had gone ahead and set up a base. Alistair's work, of course, as they had not only contacted her. Especially after she disappeared for the better part of six months. No word to anyone, not any of her party members, and most certainly not Alistair. Only Leliana had any idea (she had been there) and she wasn't one to kiss and tell._

_Soldiers saluted her, servants made way in the halls; keeping a brisk pace that called for no nonsense, she nodded here and smiled there, attempting to play the part of the benevolent leader. Little did they know that, inside, she could care less about all of this, these Wardens and this arling. Not out of simple apathy, but more out of guilt. She was still unable to shake the feeling after so long, but she had been able to bury it under responsibility; she had become very good at that._

_She opened her own doors - she didn't need to be waited on like some invalid, and it made the going faster - and stepped into the dungeon. Her gaze went straight to the cell in the back of the room; there was only one cell here, but there were others beneath the keep in a separate room full of torture instruments that she had deemed off limits. _

_There, a figure pacing inside of the small cell, his body radiating anger. She took one look at him, and instantly recognized who he was. She stopped dead in her tracks, having to put a hand to a nearby table to keep from falling. Her accompanying soldiers grew wary, one with his arms out to steady her should it be necessary. She held up a hand, waving him off._

_"Whatever he took, let him keep it. Let him go." Her escorts were stunned._

_"But, my lady, he-"_

_"Do as I say." With that, she turned on her heel and left, but not before she heard _him_ say her name like a question, loud enough for her to catch it as the door was closing behind her. She closed her eyes and willed the sound away, made that much harder because of the desire to turn and go running back._

Their eyes met, and she looked away first; what was there to be said, or done, aside from waiting for the rain to abate? One hand lightly petted the hilt of one dagger - she had no real reason to believe he'd do her harm, but she'd never let that sort of sentiment stand in the way of her own defense before. He had stopped pacing, now turned to look at her and his gaze was solid.

"How long has it been, Elissa?" His voice was attempting to be civil, but it was mocking. The voice she'd come to cherish, to _need_, was now reminiscent of his father. His face, his gait, everything about him was not _him_, but someone else. Someone she had murdered, and how could he ever forgive her for it?

"Eleven years, three months, five weeks and a day." She glanced at him to notice him blink in surprise. Of course she had kept careful track; at Highever, she had a space on her bedroom wall where she had written marks using kohl. Her mother had been disapproving of her use of makeup, but then she had simply started hiding the marks behind her vanity. After three years, she had started keeping track in her mind; now it had become her way to tell the days apart.

How could she not have kept careful track, when she had had no idea of when he would return? Especially since she had had no warning of his departure? He had vanished like smoke, like fog on a sunny day. They lapsed back into silence again. One of her hands snaked up to fold hair behind one ear and scratch an itch on the back of her skull. The other hand remained near her weapon.

"You've changed." He paused as though uncertain what to say. "You cut your hair." The statement was short, unnecessary.

She nodded, slowly; though she had maintained the cut all this time, it still felt strange to not have her hair hanging past her shoulders, down to the small of her back. It felt as though part of her was missing. She saw him tense, fighting not to take a step forward; she pressed a little further back against the wall, as though she could will herself to sink into it.

"A lot has changed, Nathaniel." _Everything has changed_, she thought. Even he: before he had been withdrawn, quiet. Now he was simply angry. They had seemed an odd pair, when they were younger - she, delighting in music and laughter and fun, had become an eager friend of the quiet young man, Arl Howe's eldest. She had an explanation, though: she loved to make him smile, make him laugh. In contrast to his usual nature, his smile lit up his face. Since his laughter was seldom heard, she welcomed it all the more. Yes, she had been a friend of Delilah, Howe's only daughter; the two girls had had much to discuss in fashion and more, but on her trips with her father to visit Vigil's Keep (and vice versa, when the Howes visited Highever), the one person she always hoped to see was him.

"So I have been told. But I had no idea of the reality..." He frowned, the usual expression that graced his features. She worried her lip with her teeth, dreading the inevitable questions. So she stemmed them with what she could. The sound interrupting his, cracking the silence that continued to well between them.

"Where did you go?" The question was spoken with a voice she'd not heard in these long months - a childlike voice, full of hurt. She knew she had the right to be angry, herself - but she was so tired of feeling anger, hate. She was tired of having to make the choices that no one else would. His eyes widened, denoting shock, and then his brow furrowed.

"What?"

"Where did you go? After...after that day. When we fought." He seemed to be struggling to understand her question, so she rushed forward with further explanation.

"You had made the trip on your own to Highever. You waited for me in the courtyard - I...I had come from a fight with my mother," she tried to laugh, to downplay the fount of emotions welling up in her belly. She strictly told herself that she would not cry. She could remember the last two times she had cried, and both were inappropriate to think of now.

"She had been chiding me about ditching the suitor she had brought all the way from Gwaren. How could I not have? His voice...it was so...high pitched and ridiculous..." As she continued with her story, she didn't notice that Nathaniel's features was slowly losing the perpetual scowl; that the beginnings of a smile were growing on his lips. She told stories or sang songs, and he would get wrapped up in her voice, her words. It didn't matter what she might say or sing, just that she was there.

"So I was in a dark mood. And you were waiting for me in the courtyard; you had something to give to me. I was such a brat. I took it out on you, without thinking. You handed me a box, saying that it had belonged to your mother and that you had wanted me to have it. But I couldn't have it until I answered a question that you needed to ask me.

"I said something stupid, something like 'I don't need any hand-me-downs from anyone, much less a dead woman's things.' The moment I said it, I regretted it; the look on your face..." She looked up and saw the ghost of a smile, the amusement in his expression. All of it very faint. But there, and that was what was important. "I opened my mouth to apologize, but you had jumped on your horse and...were gone. From there, from your home, from Ferelden.

"Where did you go?"

"You really don't know?" The smile, the amusement, all of it faded, replaced by the hardness that had grown in his jaw, the anger that lit his eyes. She nodded, waiting for his explanation. Instead, he reached into a small pack that he was carrying, shuffling through it. After a moment he withdrew a small square of paper, which he unfolded six times over. He offered it to her without a word. Glancing at it, and then at him, she took it from his hand and unfolded the last bit to reveal a letter written in a longhand scrawl similar to her own handwriting. The paper was old, fraying - it had been handled often. Her brow furrowed as she read the words and took in the signature of her name at the bottom.

_ Nathaniel Howe,_

_ Please do not contact me again. My mother has found a suitable husband for _  
_ me and we are to wed within the month. I understand that your father has found _  
_ work for you in the Free Marches. I wish you the best of luck and happiness._

_ Elissa Cousland_

"What is this?" It was so brief and to the point - she could understand how something like this would have broken his heart, especially when she had seen what was in the box. She had opened it when she was alone in her room, having to wave off her mother and her maid, Abby, who were both concerned when she had returned from her meeting with Nathaniel in tears and nearly gasped aloud at what she had found within.


	2. Chapter 2

"When I returned home that day, angry as anything, having ridden my horse nearly into the ground - which, I'll tell you, Father nearly took out of my hide," he winced at the thought of his father, a hoarseness coming through in his voice. "There was a wagon waiting. With all of my things packed in it. My father was standing next to it. He informed me that he had arranged a job for me as a squire in the Free Marches. I didn't understand why he could not have given me more notice, but he waved away any arguments. I could do nothing - a sixteen-year-old boy must always obey his father. I had to go.

"The first thing I did, though, before I left, was write you a letter. I gave it to him, my father, and said that it needed to be delivered right away, and that I would obey his command." He paused, and she waited, glancing down at the letter once more. Though the handwriting was similar, she knew it not to be hers.

"It took three weeks to reach our destination - and you know how I detest boats. I always get seasick...a storm descended during our journey, making it that much longer. I arrived in the Free Marches, gills green and less than happy to be there. And I waited for your reply. It came at the end of that week - the letter you hold in your hands."

Elissa held up the letter. "I did not write this."

Nathaniel gave a nod, acknowledging her denial; he rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable perhaps with the anger he had been feeling, now that he knew it was unfounded. "So I understand now. But...who?"

"It was Arl Howe. Your father." She waited for his response, then quietly added, "Delilah told me."

Delilah had confirmed her theories, which had begun the same day she had murdered Howe. His words..._he deserved better than you..._The words had cut her to the quick and with the letter in mind a notion had taken root and begun to grow. When Nathaniel gave no reply, she continued.

"I received a similar letter...I don't have it now, I kept it in the box you gave me, along with a few other things that reminded me of you," she added quickly, her cheeks reddening a little. "All of its gone now. I had thought all of it gone, until...now." She looked at him again, this time the desire to draw away vanishing. The hostility she had felt from him earlier was evaporating. He didn't seem shocked at this revelation - not even a little surprised. Perhaps...simply vindicated. He had known, had always known. It hit her that he was living in his own state of denial, and that cracks were forming.

"But I hadn't believed it. The handwriting was not yours, and...I just couldn't believe. It was a stupid fight, we were so young, and I couldn't believe that you would leave me like that." The last few words grew smaller and smaller in pitch as the emotions finally came tumbling out. Nathaniel took a step forward hesitantly, bringing the distance between them closer. She found herself standing rather than leaning against the wall, though one hand still lingered near a dagger. A desire to trust, but wariness still ruled.

"All of it gone?" She could see his jaw twitch, upset by the idea that she had lost what he had given her.

"Well, no, not all of it." Slowly she reached into her breastplate and withdrew a ring on a necklace, both silver and both very old. "I put it on the same day you gave it to me, and have never taken it off since." He relaxed visibly, releasing a long held breath. He unconsciously reached out as though to take it, his hand stopping halfway and receding. She found the uncompleted action made her chest ache.

"It suits you. I think my mother would have been glad to see you wear it." She tucked it away beneath her breastplate, keeping it safe. They lapsed into silence again - now it wasn't awkward, nor punctuated with anger and wariness. It was similar to afternoons they had spent together when they were young - Nathaniel's head in Elissa's lap while she sang some tune, or read a book, resting in the sunshine outdoors. Memories that were long since past. The sound of rain invaded Elissa's thoughts, and her next question burst forth without provocation.

"How is it that you have yet to...to berate me for...for..." She couldn't say it.

"The murder of my father?" The question hung in the air: not angry, not a slap in the face. A simple question.

"Yes." He bowed his head, crossing his arms over his chest. She reasoned that he had been putting the thought from his mind, keeping the questions at bay at the same time she had been dreading them. It seemed that it was a topic neither of them had wanted to breach, but it needed to be.

"Delilah was right." They had found his sister living in Amaranthine, happily married to a trader. Nathaniel had been ecstatic to see her alive, and they had spent nearly two hours talking in the small home she shared with her husband. After Delilah had explained things to Nathaniel, who seemed to accept everything she said at face value, Delilah had taken Elissa aside. She had told Elissa that she forgave her for what she had done - and that she was terribly sorry for her own loss as well.

_Elissa had opted to wait outside the house, with Anders and Oghren. They had spent the two hours talking quietly, Elissa asking Oghren about his family and how his son was doing and receiving short, obtuse answers. Anders had popped in every now and then with a query or remark of his own, but had mostly remained quiet, eyes scanning the area for the Templars that had nearly arrested him (had it not been for the quick work of Elissa and the consent of Alistair regarding his conscription). _

_Two hours had passed slowly, and finally the remaining Howe children emerged from the small hut. Nathaniel had a small smile on his face, and he turned to embrace his sister before returning to the group. Glancing away from her charges, Elissa saw Delilah motioning for her to step aside. Elissa moved towards her former playmate, every step feeling as though her feet were weighted heavily; three steps later she was standing just before the smiling woman who looked nothing like her father and more like the mother Elissa had never known._

_"I would like to thank you," she began, slowly. Elissa's eyes widened, concerned and confused._

_"Why should you want to thank me for anything?"_

_"Oh, Elissa." Delilah sighed, a slight exasperation._ _"You were always one for dramatics._

_"I should thank you for my brother's life. You had no reason to spare him...well, you did at one time, but I wasn't sure if that would carry forward. Not after what Father did."_

_"What are you talking about?" Delilah grew serious, and placed a hand on Elissa's arm._

_"Father sent Nathaniel away. To keep him away from you. He kept his location a secret, not even telling your father. And I think...I think he had letters written, to finish whatever was between the two of you." Elissa's gaze swam for a moment, and only Delilah's hand steadied her._

_"How do you know this?" _

_Delilah smiled ruefully. "Father always was boastful once he'd had his evening brandy. Especially if he thought no one was listening - and he didn't consider the servants to be more than furniture," she sighed sadly. She took both of Elissa's forearms in her hands. _

_"Yes, killing a man is a terrible thing. But you did it for a good reason; I dread to think what might have happened had you not. I can see that you're already suffering - as is he, and don't believe his cold nature, it's a front, it always was - but it is in the past. I forgive you. And, in time, I think Nathaniel will as well." _

_Meeting Elissa eye to eye, she smiled, and then pulled the Warden into an embrace. Elissa was caught off guard, but quickly collected herself and wrapped her own arms around Delilah's slight frame. It touched her deeply to hear such words from someone who had no reason to give them. They pulled back, though Elissa caught one of Delilah's hands._

_"I promise you I'll set this to rights - I can restore your family's name. I can give you and Albert lands, or I can -"_

_"No. No, Elissa, that's not what I meant. I'm happy here, with Albert. It's a poor existence, I grant you, but a happy one. I would trade all the silks and jewels of my youth to always have had what I have now. And...as for the family name...it's not yours to restore. Give Nathaniel a chance, if only that." _

_Elissa nodded, and finally simply promised to return, at Delilah's request that she have dinner with her and her husband one night so the two might catch up. A rift had grown between them after Nathaniel's departure, and both would see it removed._

"I did idolize Father, from the very beginning. I was the eldest, expected to obey my parents without question. To follow in my father's footsteps. I didn't see...the way he treated my mother, especially after she died. Do you remember her portrait? The one in the main hall? It was only ever hung there for guests. Otherwise he had it taken down, and thrown in a closet. Often saying...the most horrible things about her. Or how he treated Thomas, or Delilah...or even me."

He grew quiet for a moment, and she remembered a time she had visited Vigil's Keep with her father. Nathaniel had been there, and she had eagerly thrown her arms about him in greeting. His reaction was to wince, biting his lip to hold back a yell. She had demanded an explanation, but he had refused to say anything.

Another time she had seen him in the practice yard, shirtless, hitting dummies with a wooden sword in the hot midday sun, and had seen the scars of the switch marks on his back.

"When I heard that he had...murdered your family, I could not believe it. Your father must have _done _something to deserve it, must have...I don't know what explanations I had invented. But I grew angry. I returned home, after so long, thinking that I would...kill the one who had killed my father. Who had destroyed my family." He stepped away again, beginning to pace anew.

"And it was you. I couldn't believe it - the girl I knew," he glanced at her, "wouldn't have hurt a fly. After all, you detested swordplay. You made music, and sang, and..." His hands emphasized his words. He stopped pacing, standing turned partially to her. "And then they caught me, on the grounds.

"At that point, all I wanted was to take a few of my family's possessions back. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I knew that it would do no good. On the road home, anyone who heard my name refused to speak with me. One woman even spit on me. Can you imagine what that felt like? To become a nothing, an outcast..."

"I do. That is what Loghain did to me, and to Alistair, after Ostagar. He branded us traitors, spreading the lie that we had quit the field and left King Cailan to die." He looked at her again, as though studying her with new eyes; they were finding new similarities, new ties.

"They threw me in the dungeon - and then you came. And left, without a word. I thought you were afraid to face me."

"I was."

He paused in his steps, just a few feet away from her. "And that was why I demanded to go with you."

_Once she had acquired her group – the mage, Anders, who endlessly reminded her of a more sarcastic Alistair, and Oghren, who she had not seen since the death of the Archdemon – she was ready to set out to find the rift in the Wending Wood that was a gaping maw open to the Deep Roads. A potential source for the darkspawn. And he had been there, at the gate. Both Anders and Oghren had lived through the joining, and she thought her party complete._

"_Move. I have no time for this." She had thought that she could keep him at an arm's length, attempting to use her façade as the arlessa and Warden Commander to stop him from demanding anything from her. She should have known it would not work._

"_Elissa. Please. Let me…let me work to clear my family's name. Let me join you." He stood directly in her path, unwilling to let her pass until she had heard his plea. His face was ever stoic, his voice serious. She glanced back at Oghren, who shrugged. Of course he would have an inkling of who this man was. Anders simply looked confused._

"_Yah know we need more able bodies, Warden. Let the lad come," the dwarf had advised. Elissa had been more than ready to deny the request, and would not have needed to explain it to anyone. But it was Nathaniel, and to push him away when he had come so recently back into her life would be another stupid decision that she was not ready – nor willing – to make._

"_You realize that you will be required to join the Grey Wardens."_

"_That is what I intend."_

"_You know not what you ask," she mumbled quietly. She could push him away, now, and keep him safe. But lose him forever. Or she could give in to his desires, and lose him to death. Had she not just been given this decision? It seemed that her life would be nothing but these choices, deciding the fates of those she loved. She already knew where one path would lead. Perhaps it was time to try the other._

"_So be it. Come, we will prepare you, and then we will be on our way."_

And he had lived. She had never been so relieved in her life, barely able to suppress the smile on her face. Even when her Seneschal had warned against inducting a Howe, she had waved aside his concerns. She knew the truth, that not all apples fell from the same tree.

That was before she was trapped with him, in a cave, in the middle of a forest. Before she had been confronted with the fact that she would have to explain herself to someone she didn't want to lose - because she knew how that would all play out. After all, it had happened before.

"Why did you wait to ask...no, I should ask why you've been avoiding me."

Nathaniel resumed pacing - his quirk to show that he was nervous, perhaps as nervous as she. "I didn't want to believe. I was afraid that if I asked, you would be the person I'd heard of. So I waited, and I watched. You were aloof, sometimes even cold, with others. But you were making the decisions no one else would - doing the things I never...frankly, I never thought you would do. It wasn't a question of bravery, or naivety...but it simply wasn't _you_."

Elissa smirked sadly. It was true. If she had been told, when she was thirteen, that she would have done all of this - traveled the Deep Roads, saved her country, put a bastard prince on the throne - she probably would have died laughing. She had been so...frivolous as a child. All of that had been shed, though, what seemed a long time ago.

"But then I heard of other things you had done - Oghren really isn't a bad conversationalist, once you get past the smell - and it was difficult to reconcile the two." Elissa had to suppress a laugh - though she knew that Oghren wasn't a bad person, it seemed odd that he would be the one who would relate her past actions. What kind of a picture had he painted for Nathaniel, and how would it contrast Leliana's or Alistair's version of events?

Thinking on it a moment longer, Elissa was glad that it was Oghren and not the other two. Alistair would've warned all others away and one glance at Leliana's deeply hurt face would have spoken volumes more than any explanation. Never mind that she had done what she had to do, in the case of the king, and with the bard, it had been her heart that desired the break. Or at least, that was what she told herself to help her sleep at night.

"He told me how you helped him track down Felsi, and even...even talked her into seeing Oghren's good side. Helped him win her over again, and how the two had wed because of what you had said. I'm not quite sure who Branka was, but it's evident that she hurt him. And you helped him get over that, helped him to move on with his life." Nathaniel paused, and looked towards the mouth of the cave. The rain continued its pounding endeavor. "A cold-hearted killer does not help a friend overcome heartache. At least, I can't reconcile the idea that the two could be the same person."

A flutter kicked up in Elissa's chest, but she bit her lip to hold back words that weren't ready to be said. Weren't ready to be heard, not by either of them.

"I know you've had to make some difficult decisions, with little support. I've heard some of what happened with the king, and how you convinced the nobility that he deserved the throne. All of it...is not the girl I knew." The fluttering stopped, dropped like a stone. She knew it was too good to be true.

"The kindness, though. The kindness...that was what I loved about you, Lissa. How you could take a rainy day and make it shine like the sun through a kind word." Hearing her nickname, she shivered - no one had used that name, save her now dead nephew. She hadn't heard it from anyone's lips in such a long time. But she could tell that he was trying to let her down gently, telling her that he couldn't love someone who was so warped, so changed. He stepped forward, nearer to her, and reached out to touch her arm. The touch became a grasp as his hand encompassed the flesh of her upper arm. The contact startled her, made her look up into his face. Both hands removed from her weapons. Finally willing to accept the inevitable.

"And it's still there. It's hard to see - I can tell you that much, from these few short days - it's damned hard to see, but it's there. She's buried under all of this, the Lissa I knew. And I want to know her again. If you'll let me, I look forward to the day I get to meet her again." He let go of her arm, and as his hand fell away she wished for nothing more than to have it back. The fluttering kicked up in her chest again, but what could she say?

"What was the question?"

"What?" His confusion was plain on his face, and she couldn't help but smile at it.

"The question. What were you going to ask me when you gave me the ring?" His eyes widened in realization, then he gave a soft laugh of embarrassment. A corner of his mouth turned up, transforming his whole face from stoic to teasing. Suddenly he looked nothing like his father - suddenly, he looked like the boy she had known.

"Really? Elissa -" She held up a hand to stop him, the tips of her fingers pressing against his lips; her mouth was curled, ever so slightly - just a hint of the Lissa hiding under the thick shell. His eyes crinkled in amusement, moving to take her wrist in his hand. For just a few moments, brown met gray, and all they could see before them was a blank slate.


End file.
